A Death March
by Madisonne
Summary: Death-fic. An incident at the Preventers causes tragedy.


A Death March   
  
By: Madisonne Part: 1/1 Disclaimer: I do not own. Do not sue. Warnings: Death-fic. Notes: I wrote this to the soundtrack of Spirited Away.   
  
  
  
At first, all he could do was stand staring at the gaping wound in his chest. Then, clasping hands over the spurting blood, he gasped and fell back to the wall with a wet 'thud'.  
  
'So this is what death feels like...' He thought disjointedly as his vision wavered in front of him.  
  
The screaming around him was so loud. All he really wanted was for it to stop. But somehow, his voice would not obey him to yell for silence.  
  
Faces and colours flashed before his vision as he slid slowly down the wall.  
  
He brought his hands up to his face to stare at the blood that had spattered there. He licked a bloody finger in fascination, as if to tell if it was real. The metallic taste was disgusting and yet comforting all at once. 'After all, death is life's only certainty.'  
  
The yelling was punctuated by a sharp noise, then the roar dimmed to a faint buzz as his eyes lost focus and all he could see were soft, pretty colours dancing in front of him.  
  
'It's warm...' He thought, a bemused smile crossed his face and he took his last breath.  
  
Bursting through the door, Milliardo had to fight hard to catch his breath after the ten-story climb from the first floor of the Preventer's building. News of the security breach had spread fast and he had sprung into action in hopes of freeing the hostage taken.  
  
At first, he had not even recognised the alert. Since the war, nothing major had happened for which they had been deployed. While Zechs Merquise would have recognised the bell immediately, Milliardo Peacecraft had little to no experience with the emergency system.  
  
In that case, Milliardo was not the first to respond to the emergency chimes. As many as forty Preventers were packed in a semi-circle at the front of the room. Pushing many agents away, he was able to get a spot from which he could see what was going on.  
  
His heart twinged as he realised who had been caught up in the incident. Wufei was currently standing facing towards the other Preventers with his hands up over his head, his gaze fixed on the tall civilian who had broken into the office.  
  
The intruder had his back towards the Preventers while men Milliardo could only assume were fellow rebels had guns trained on the gathering crowd. The ring-leader had his gun pointed at Wufei.  
  
The scene made him yearn for a gun, a knife, anything with which he could help his fellow Preventer. Two years of being a diplomat in the post- war peace had softened him and he no longer had a weapon ready at his side.  
  
It was obvious that the ex-gundam pilot was trying to reason with the man while trying to inch back over to his discarded weapon. "Okay, why don't we just talk this over? There's no reason why we cannot both be men about this, right?"  
  
"Why don't you tell that to my brother's family, hmmm? How about all those other people you killed? Did you give them the chance to 'talk this over'?" The man snapped, keeping a careful eye on Wufei.  
  
"Look, maybe we can negotiate something..." Wufei slid closer to his weapon.  
  
"I do not negotiate with terrorists." The man caught on to what the Preventer was planning and fired a single shot into Wufei's heart.  
  
The next few seconds were a blur to Milliardo as multiple shots rang out as the Preventers gunned down the vastly out-numbered intruders. His attention, however, was focused on the ex-pilot who had fallen against the wall.  
  
"Oh god..." He gasped and tried to go to the fallen Preventer, but was stopped by numerous arms catching him.  
  
The Preventers who had stopped him spoke almost as one.  
  
"Are you crazy?!!"  
  
"Can't you see there's a gunfight going on?"  
  
"Stand down, Preventer!"  
  
"There's nothing you can do for him now." The last was from the sympathetic eyes of Quatre, who had caught him by his sleeve with one hand and had his gun trained on an intruder with the other.  
  
Tears stinging his eyes, Milliardo saw none of the gun-fight, but watched Wufei slide slowly down the wall, a bloody stain marking his path. His stomach twisted painfully as the Preventer brought his hands to his face, looking at the shining blood in fascination.  
  
It was only when the ex-pilot had slumped down to the ground, exhaled softly, and stopped blinking that Milliardo was able to stop watching him.  
  
He glanced around at the scene surrounding him, still in shock. Preventers had managed to gun down the intruders and no further agent casualties had resulted. Bodies were being searched for clues as to the motive of the attack, but Wufei's prone form was left alone, men working around, never with, the body.  
  
Milliardo stepped over the other dead bodies and maneuvered his way around the living to crouch in front of the fallen Preventer. With a gentle hand, he closed the eyes and ran a hand through the black hair. Overwhelmed with grief and a yearning to revenge the death, he choked out a whispered a prayer for the dead and got back up. Turning around, he walked back out of the room, not saying a word to anyone. He closed the doors behind him and calmly walked down ten flights of stairs to the first floor.  
  
Walking into the safe deposits for the Preventer staff, he pulled out a key he had not used since the end of the wars. He opened his locker and retrieved a well-worn uniform, boots, and a mask. Changing clothes, he swapped his diplomat's ID-badge for a holster and loaded his four guns. Placing them in their proper spots, he slammed the locker door shut and headed for the exit.  
  
Millliardo Peacecraft would have to play dead a little while longer. Zechs Merquise was back.  
  



End file.
